Who are you?
by koolgirl1120
Summary: AU based off movie. In a world where Betty Ross doesn't exist, Bruce is on the run - from the military, from everyone, from even himself. He bides his time, waiting for his inevitable capture. He never expects to meet Liz Rose, certainly not by crashing into her house as the Hulk chasing a guy who's trying to kill him. But hey, she deserves an answer as to why her house exploded.


**A/N.**** Hey y'all! What's up? Here's an AU Bruce/OC-that's-basically-Betty-but-renamed-and-in -a-different-universe plot bunny that popped into my head when I went on vacation a few months ago. Don't worry to all my SAACSWCA readers, I am working on that next :D This MAY become a multi-chap after a finish the sequel to my Steve/OC story which will take a few months. So this is a oneshot for now. Enjoy :D**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the Hulk**

The smell of waffles filled the air, rising from the Belgian waffle maker Liz had broken out for the special occasion. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the aroma encircle her and try desperately to calm her nerves. Her boyfriend was coming over that night to celebrate their one year anniversary and she was making him breakfast for dinner: his favourite. She had broken out the whipped cream, the variety of exotic berries, the homemade maple syrup, the icing sugar, the honey, the-

Suddenly the entire house started to shake. It was just a small tremor at first, only visible by the water in the glass that sat on the marble countertop of her kitchen. But then bottles began to rock back and forth rapidly, tapping the counter with annoying rhythm. And then it became violently close, and everything hanging on a wall was promptly dropped to the floor as Liz gripped the edge of the cupboards and peeked out her kitchen window, fingers slipping through the blinds.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, no cracks in the ground, no craters, no gaping holes or screams that she could hear. No chaos. So what was going on?

A loud CRASH echoed throughout her house from the living room on the other side of the wall that startled her to death. Clutching her heart, she bolted towards the source of the noise and skidded to a stop as the dust filled her lungs. She coughed vigorously and waved her hand in front of her face to get a better look, only to regret it instantly.

The entire front wall of her house was smashed to pieces, creating a gaping hole to the outside above the crushed rock and brick and wood and panelling and green giant and-

Wait what? There was something large and green and _moving_ lying in her living room among the rubble, and all she could do was _stare_. In her head, she kept yelling at herself to run, for her muscles to obey commands and flee. But then the green thing seemed to get bigger, taller. She stood there, rooted to the spot, mouth agape, eyes wide.

It had stood to its full height, and it was indeed an _it_, because there's no way it was human. But if it wasn't human, then what was it? An alien? A mutant? An animal?

The thing had grimy black hair and a round head with a face that somewhat resembled a man's. Based off of that thought alone, she assumed it was male. It towered above her and had the body of a human, multiplied by a hundred and dyed green. Its muscles were gigantic and the only clothing it wore was a pair of purple shorts that were ripped at the knees and stretched to its full capacity. Its breathing was laboured and its chest rose up and down about two feet with each breath.

But most compelling of all, were his neon green eyes as they bored into hers, trying to decipher whether or not she was a threat. The quaking had stopped, and Liz did the math. Giant + Earth shaking = Giant running. Though the planet was no longer vibrating from his footsteps, Liz was quivering like a leaf.

After a few seconds, she swallowed the lump in her throat with much difficulty and opened her mouth again to speak. "Wh- who are you?" she whispered, barely audible over his breathing. She should be running, she should be calling the police, the fire department, the ambulance, anyone who would listen and get rid of this danger! But she couldn't.

It had only been about ten seconds, but he had yet to attack her. Neither of them had yet to move, and she was afraid that if she made the first move, whether it was to approach or to further the distance between them, she had a sneaking suspicious that she'd be toast before she could even open her mouth to scream.

The silence was deafening. Why had this monster been running? Was he trying to escape something else? Something bigger? Scarier? That thought alone sent shivers down her spine, but she planted her feet and didn't move, waiting patiently for an answer. Could this thing even speak English?

The giant huffed, scaring bejeezus out of her. But then it spoke. "Hulk." Its voice was gruff, deep, and rumbly. It was also loud and almost broke her eardrums. She winced, but didn't react too much.

She offered him a weak smile. What a fitting name. Perhaps she could make peace with this thing, like she did the squirrels at the park all the time. How hard could it be, really?

Hulk clenched his fists and her eyes widened. But then they unclenched and he started rocking back and forth restlessly, unsure of itself. Liz cleared her throat. "I… I-I… I don't mean to- to bother you, or anything." A silence echoed her statement and sweat began trickle down the nape of her neck. This thing was going to give her a heart attack. She swallowed and tried again. "I'm Liz." She would have held out her hand to shake, but she knew that it would be crushed in his grip should he even understand what a handshake _was_.

She stared into his eyes, trying to read him. On the outside, he was big and angry and scary, and just as much so on the inside. But as she looked deeper, there was something else, buried beneath the green and everything else. It was something warm and brown and… _there_. But she couldn't see it. She _felt_ it, deep within her core. And she knew that that was why she hadn't abandoned him when she heard the crash. She felt inexplicably drawn to this creature, this creature that was now putting all his weight on his right foot and bending his left leg. He had a _limp_.

Liz was a sucker for helpless animals. Though this one was anything _but_ helpless. Still, she stepped closer, keeping to the edge of the wall that led to her kitchen. Hulk snarled and she stopped. He didn't move towards her. Good sign.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him in a quiet voice. She was sure that with his rather big ears that he could hear her. Sirens could be heard in the distance and she started to panic. Her neighborhood was an extremely paranoid one, and there was no doubt in her mind that someone had called the police during the crash. She began to panic, but she needed to stay calm, if just for Hulk.

Hulk blew a puff of air towards his hair to blow it out of his eyes. It was such a human thing to do that she had to do a double take to let that sink in. Was this thing… human? Finally, he answered her question in simple nouns and verbs. "Hulk smash." He pounded his fists together for emphasis, causing the entire house to shake again.

Liz gripped the edge of the wall for support as her balance wavered, never tearing her gaze from the green creature before her. "Smash what?" she questioned him. Inside, she was repeating _Not me_ over and over and over again. She knew she was doomed if his target was her. She held her breath.

"Bad man."

She blinked in surprise. "Bad man? What bad man?"

A gun cocked. "This one." The tip was pressed against her temple and a strong around was around her throat before she would say a word and she choked in his hold. She struggled to tear away from him, but the guy was ripped.

Ahead of her, the Hulk growled, low and deadly. She couldn't see her attacker's face, but it was clear he had no qualms about killing her. She kicked at his shins and elbowed his stomach but all she felt was rock hard muscle that barely budged when she made contact. Either she was weaker than she thought she was, or this guy was some kind of super villain.

"What do you want?" she asked him through gritted teeth.

"Nothing you can give me." The man answered, cold and ruthless. He pressed the gun against her head hard enough to make her dizzy and her knees wobbled but she kept upright. When next he spoke, he addressed the Hulk. "I know you have _some_ decency in you, so surrender and she lives." He stated simple, resting his finger against the trigger.

There was something incredibly unsettling at the prospect of having a fire arm pointed at your brain that could kill you in less than a second. It would be a quick and hopefully painless death, but death all the same. She looked up into Hulk's eyes and silently prayed for answers. She had no idea what was going on.

The man inclined his head towards his captive, his short stubby beard scratching her scalp uncomfortably. "You should have trusted him a bit more, Miss Rose. Then perhaps you wouldn't be in this situation."

Liz couldn't help the shudder that ran through his at his voice. Hulk snarled and lunged for them. The last thing she remembers is a gunshot, a burst of fireworks and then blackness.

XXX

Everything is still black, still dark. She smells something burning. It's an overwhelming smell that takes over all her other sense and she begins to cough. It's not a pleasant odour. But she's somewhat happy to be coughing because coughing means she's _alive_. At least she thinks so. Her lungs feel charred and full of smoke as she coughs more, convulsing.

But then she realized she was constricted in every possible way. She wasn't bound, she was buried. She wasn't sure how deep or by what, but she could barely move. Every muscle in her body ached but she could breathe (sort of) and that was enough for her at the moment.

When the coughing subsided, she dared open her eyes. Everything was dark and her eyes watered from unseen dust in the air. She blinked rapidly, trying to see through the haze.

And then there was a light, breaking through the shadows and she gravitated towards it. She tugged at her arms and kicked with her legs, thanking whatever God was out there that she wasn't claustrophobic. She eventually wrenched one arm free and stretched towards the light, reaching for it.

The muscles in her arms strained and she pushed for that one dot of hope that seemed so close but just out of reach. She shoved herself as far upward as she could, which was only about an inch but it was enough. Her fingers gripped the edge and she heaved herself up. The weight upon her shifted until she was sitting up and gasping for air, only to suffocate and cough once more.

Her torso was now free and she immediately kicked her legs free of the wooden planks, bricks, mortar, and whatever else she had been buried beneath. Breathing hard, Liz took a look at her surroundings.

It was her neighborhood. She would recognize it anywhere. And now that she knew where she was, she knew that she was in her house – or, she was _supposed_ to be in her house. But all that was left was a pile of rubble and a huge crowd of people gathered around the perimeter.

And then she realized that her ears had been ringing this whole time and that's when it began to subside. But she almost begged for it back when the sirens and the screams and panicked chatter and yelling invaded and she squeezed her eyes shut. With a few deep breaths, she was alright again.

She was filthy and recently buried alive and scared to death and flashes of her memories had just come back to her in waves but she was alright. Or rather, she was going to be. What had happened? She had been shot, hadn't she? Why wasn't she dead. She felt her head frantically for bullet holes, but found none. Not a spec of blood on her – oh wait, never mind. Her right arm was dripping with it but she found herself distracted when she spotted another pile of debris similar to the one she had just been under. It moved.

She crawled over to the spot as fast as she could, scraping her knees and palms along the way but not caring. She digs her way to the bottom like a dog or a pirate looking for treasure until she finds a body. There's this lump in her throat that makes her hesitate for just a second. But it's the thought that the person could be dying that gets her through it and she pulls them from the remains of what she assumes used to be her house.

When the person is completely freed, she's shocked at what she sees. It's a man she's never seen before, with raven black hair that's growing out and smothered in dust and slight muscles subtly placed along his body. But most shocking of all is the fact that he's naked and must have been somewhere in her house when the explosion – what she's assuming happened – went off.

But then he stirs and she has no time to think as his eyes shoot open to stare at her and she feels like she's under some sort of spell. Everyone knows that Liz is a chocoholic. And this man's eyes are the perfect shade of chocolate that she eats whenever that time of month rolls around and whenever she finds a justifiable excuse.

She sucks in a breath and forces herself to speak. "Are you okay?" She has no idea what's going on and she's surprise none of the other people surrounding the sight have rushed over to help them but she's too focused on the fact that her voice is raspy and chopped and just _awful._

Well, that and the fact that the man has opened his mouth to respond. "Yeah, do me a favor and hand me my pants." He gestures to her left and she whips her head around to spot a pair of ripped purple pants lying in a heap not too far away. She reaches over and grabs them and then tosses them to him. "Thanks." He says, pulling them over his legs.

Liz finally has that delayed reaction of blushing because he's _stark naked_ and she's seen his bits and pieces and- she spun around and averted her gaze bashfully. A dry chuckle echoes behind her and her face only turns a darker shade of red. "Sorry."

"No worries." She heard him zip up and she turns back around but he's still shirtless and she's still blushing.

"Um, if you don't mind my asking – but you better answer anyway because I deserve an answer – who are you?"

At this point he's trying to stand but he only manages to get on his feet before he lurches forward and she just manages to catch him before he face plants on the rubble painfully. She wraps one arm around his waist and he shies away at the contact at first, but she just glares at him and he gives in, placing an arm around her shoulders and they start to hobble towards the crowd that has yet to spot them. "You still haven't answered my question." She reminds him.

The man stops, using one hand to hold up the waistband of his pants so that they don't fall down (man they're big on him) and looks her dead in the eye and it clicks just before he says it. "I'm the Hulk."


End file.
